A Dead Man's Wish (RusAme)
by SpunkySpaceCat
Summary: Due to unfortunate and mysterious circumstances, the northern country known as "Russia" has fallen. His "Best friend," America, is having a hard time accepting this strange occurrence because, of course, countries can never die. Whilst wallowing in his sorrow, an angel visits him. Except, this isn't an angel. It's Death. And Death, is now Russia.


A bell tolled 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Through tear-soaked eyes, Alfred glanced up from his folded arms. The clock had awoken him from a much needed nap. He wiped his right eye and felt a wetness. His glove was moist now with his tears. Alfred sniffled. He had fallen asleep whilst working on some paperwork, and he had apparently had a sad dream. He picked his brain. The previous day's events ran through his mind.

 _We are sorry to say that Ivan Braginsky, the human personification of Russia, has unfortunately fallen and is no longer with us. The country itself is now in turmoil and chaos due to governmental disputes. No one has stepped forward to take action for the country. It seems that Russia may fall in a short time now... But... One question still remains. Who is responsible for "The Fall of Russia?" For some years now, one person it seems has been destroying Russia from the inside out. Now, the citizens have revolted and the capital has become nothing but ashes and death. The country is in a dire situation. Stay tuned for more..._

That was on the news. Every single news channel had the exact same message. "Russia has Fallen." Coming back to reality, Alfred rubbed his bleary eyes. He knew this because he had turned to every news channel. He wanted to watch something not concerning Russia, something that would provide him with forgetfulness. But no. Everything was about Russia. He scoffed. The last time the U.S was so wound up was 9/11. Alfred shuddered. He hated remembering 9/11. It was a very bad time for him. But... One good thing came out of it. After the worst of the fires were over, and Alfred was put in a hospital bed, Russia had rushed over to him. Alfred softly giggled to himself. Russia, out of all the countries out there, it had to Russia that came rushing first. Sure, England and the rest of the "group" had come also, but Russia had been the one who rushed. He didn't make some crappy excuse like the rest. Russia actually genuinely visited him in his own time. Remembering this, Alfred hadn't realized his eyes were getting blurry and moist. Soon, he was sobbing on the desk. Why? He thought. Why Russia? Why not some smaller country... Not the biggest country in the world. Not... My best friend. Perking up, Alfred silently cursed. He had let his thoughts go astray, and had internally claimed that Ivan was his "best friend." Fat chance at that. He thought. Alfred sat up and swiveled around in the office chair he was sitting on. His tears were relatively dried up, only with a hint of wetness behind them. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his hair and headed out. It's no use crying about it here. He thought. I'll only make myself more miserable. Plus, if anyone else saw me like this... Why, they would think that I had some sort of feeling for the guy... Bah.

America fidgeted at the table. The "G8" members were going to hold a meeting regarding Russia's... Absence. Usually, Alfred wasn't the first one there, but today he was. He didn't have anything else to do, so he twiddled his thumbs. His eyes still felt a tad bit watery, and he had to get rid of that feeling. If he burst out bawling at the meeting, England would never let him hear the end of it, especially if it was about Russia. Alfred dashed to the public men's restroom, and stared at his reflection. His eyes had a hint of redness behind them. Mentally kicking himself, Alfred took some water and started rubbing his eyes. Hard. After a while, he glanced up, and cursed. His eyes were now even MORE red. He was being stupid. In an attempt to make himself NOT look like he was suffering, he did the exact opposite. Glancing at the clock, he cursed again. He had spent over 10 minutes in here. Rubbing his face with a paper towel, Alfred scurried out of the bathroom.

Everyone had arrived, and all eyes were on Alfred as he entered the room, face as red as a tomato. Alfred's eyes widened as he looked around. This wasn't "G8" it was more like "World." Nearly every country had come, some even had to pull up a chair or two to make room at the table. Alfred could even make out Sealand in the corner... He could feel his eyes starting to water. Mentally slapping himself, he cleared his throat and took a seat. So many countries had come in only 10 minutes... Was Russia really that popular? Alfred shook his head. No, this is only for their benefit. They're not coming because they liked Russia. They're only coming to stop the people from taking over their lands. I'm the only one who came for Russia's sake... Alfred stole a look at England. He was shuffling through a thick stack of papers. Alfred could make out the title of one. It said "To Deal with a Revolting Country." Alfred scoffed. Why would England be looking at something like that? Easy. Just to gain power. Just like all the other liars here. All they wanted was power and glory. Just like himself... Germany cleared his throat and stood up. Immediately, the chatter subsided. For the first time in a long while, a room full of anxious countries was silent. Germany uttered a few opening words regarding small political matters that no one was paying attention to. Then, he sat down and handed the attention to England. England stood up and walked over to the billboard at the front of the room. The nations were still silent. He ran a few fingers through his hair and started shifting uncomfortably. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm sure you are all aware of the situation with Russia." A few countries nodded. "It really is unfortunate that he is no longer with us... But really, I think we are better off without him." America perked up at this, as did a few of Russia's allies. "Yes, yes. I know what I said is questionable. But I mean it. Since he WAS quite a superpower..." England stole a quick glance at America. "I think it was for the best that he passed on... Because..." England started rubbing his hands together. A few other nations had started whispering to each other. America was just about to turn to Canada when England suddenly bolted out the room, his hands in his head. A bunch of confused countries started to ramble about England's sudden disappearance. Alfred looked around and then quickly headed after him.

America found England in the bathroom, right where he was not more than thirty minutes ago. Quietly creeping up behind the older nation, Alfred sneaked a peek at the mirror. England was hunched over and it seemed like he was sobbing. His head was in the palms of his hands, and his back shuddered at times. Slowly, America crept up to England, and unsure of what to do, put a gloved hand on his shoulder. Immediately England's head shot up and his eyes met America's. Instead of yelling, like America thought he would, England instead put his head on America's shoulder and started sobbing. After an awkward pause, America unwillingly joined him too.

After cleaning themselves up, the both of them turned to each other and at the same time said, "Do not tell anyone about this." Realizing this, the both of them laughed and started back towards the meeting room. America quickly glanced at his watch and stopped in his tracks. England peered over his shoulder and his eyes widened. They had spent over 30 minutes in that god forsaken bathroom crying their eyes out over Russia. If they entered the meeting room now, questions and embarrassing questions would be asked. The both of them just decided to leave a note, and head on home. Grabbing a piece of paper, England quickly jotted down a few sloppy words and they aborted the meeting.

 _Sorry, but America and England have returned home due to England being sick. They are fine, but please don't bother them._

Lying in his bed, America gazed at the ceiling of his room with his mouth slightly ajar. It had been a couple of days since that disaster of a meeting. For these last two days, America had done nothing but lie on his bed and think about Russia. How had he died? Who was that bastard that killed him? Why Russia? Alfred pursed his lips and flipped over to hug his pillow. The thought of Russia filled him with so many emotions, he felt like he would explode. Anger. Sorrow. Embarrassment. Bitterness. Hate. Communism. Happiness. Laughter. Love.

Wait, what? Why "love?" Alfred mentally kicked himself for the umpteenth time that day. He was a fucking idiot. His thoughts got the better of him at times... The worst possible times. He didn't love that bastard. He hated him with a burning passion. Alfred rummaged through his memories with the other nation. There were good ones, such as that time when they teamed up to scare England. And then there were the bad ones... Namely, the Cold War. Alfred grinned. There were a lot of other (girl) countries who deemed the Cold War "A time of sexual tension between two of the world's superpowers." Alfred usually walked away from these particular countries or just gave them a thumbs up. Russia on the other hand would walk right up to them and stare them down, a wide grin on his face. This fanatic stopped after only three days into the war. Alfred started laughing. Loudly. Through his mind, he ran down everything that he and Russia had done with and to each other. He laughed so much his sides started hurting. He laughed so much that he started crying. His laughter faded until the only thing he was doing was crying.

"Oh Russia." He sobbed. "Why did it have to be you?"

An explosive ringing erupted out of nowhere. Surprised, Alfred put his hands over his head and watched as his ceiling collapsed. Except, it didn't. There was no rubble. It was just a hallucination. His eyes widened as a cloaked figure drifted down from the sky. When it had reached the ground, the figure unfurled its wings. It had the wing of a demon, and the wing of an angel. Both were gorgeous and terrifying at the same time. It furled its wings up again and raised a gloved hand. Alfred could do nothing but watch in awe and fear as it slowly took its hood off.

It was Russia. Alfred felt as if he may pass out. As "Russia" let the cloak fall to his feet, Alfred was very near passing out. "Russia" approached the dazed America and took his chin in his fingers. He leaned into America's ear and whispered, "You missed me, da?"

Alfred was sitting in a criss-cross position on his bed. Russia had his legs crossed with his head in his right hand and was sitting in a wooden chair in the corner. Alfred was still very dazed from what just happened. Russia is back? What the fuck is happening? Poor America didn't know what to do or think. The only thing he could do was stare at Ivan. Ivan's hair remained the same light-blonde color. He seemed a little more pale than usual. (If that was even possible.) And his eyes. Ivan's eyes still held that light violet color, but they seemed a shade... Redder. Finally, Alfred choked back his fear and opened his mouth. Ivan's eyes seemed to twinkle under the sunlight. He had a bored expression on, and seemed almost fidgety. Alfred uttered a few indecipherable words that even he couldn't understand. Ivan smirked and with a cheery voice said, "Please speak up. My hearing isn't THAT great." Alfred's ears felt red.

Alfred gulped. "Why are you here?" He flinched after saying this, afraid of what this "Russia" might say. Ivan just smirked once again and strolled over to Alfred's bed. Out of thin air, he pulled out his water pipe. It now had an extension. Instead of a spout on the end, it had a long, curved blade. Just like a scythe. Ivan stroked it with his fingertip and looked at America.

"Why am I here? Why, America. I thought you would've been overjoyed to see me. I overthrew Death and the King of Hell himself just to visit you again." Ivan took the scythe and put it under America's quivering chin. "It was quite a pain to do, but I still managed to pull through. Just for you."


End file.
